


Home from the Sea, Home from the Hill

by emungere



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-01
Updated: 2007-12-01
Packaged: 2018-02-27 17:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2701832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emungere/pseuds/emungere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakkai is weird.</p>
<p>This, Gojyo feels, is something that people tend to forget. Even Sanzo seems to take Hakkai at face value more often than not, and Hakkai's face always shows the same value. Gojyo knows better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home from the Sea, Home from the Hill

**Author's Note:**

> thanks very much to louiselux for the beta :)
> 
> Title stolen from [this poem](http://www.bartleby.com/103/15.html).

Hakkai is weird.

This, Gojyo feels, is something that people tend to forget. Even Sanzo seems to take Hakkai at face value more often than not, and Hakkai's face always shows the same value. Gojyo knows better.

"Are you going to help me?" Hakkai asks.

"We haven't got shovels."

"It won't take long. I'll do it myself if you prefer," Hakkai says, in an 'Oh, so you don't _want_ me to make dinner tonight' tone of voice. 

"No," Gojyo says quickly. He very much does want Hakkai to make dinner tonight. And he'd do it anyway. All Hakkai ever has to do is ask. "No, I'll help."

The dog lying in the middle of the road is old, judging by the gray hair on its muzzle. Or rather, was old. Now, it's about two days dead. The flies have found it, and the heat of the sun has had its effect. Moving it from road to grave is not going to be fun.

Gojyo sighs and kneels down by the side of the road, digging his hands into the soft earth.

***

Two days later, Gojyo is playing cards in the bar when he suddenly remembers why that stretch of road seemed so familiar.

The dog lying there, curled on its side. Hakkai lying there, curled on his side. There was more blood, when it was Hakkai. Fewer flies. Same trees, same dirt, same boulder by the roadside.

Hakkai walks into the bar a few seconds later. He is smiling his lightest smile and wearing the dog's collar around his neck. This gets him a few odd looks from the guys and a few pointed questions from the girls. Gojyo concentrates on the game.

"Hit me," he says. He gets a six, which jacks him up to seventeen.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Mara flick the tag on the collar with one finger, sees Hakkai's smile falter and his hand reach up to touch his neck.

"Hit," Gojyo says again, even though you should never hit at seventeen, even though he is, stupidly, not cheating. By some miracle, it's only a two.

Hakkai steps away from Mara, away from the bartender, who is offering him a beer and eyeing him with unusual wariness. Gojyo could almost laugh. Everyone thinks Hakkai is the normal one.

Hakkai comes to stand by his shoulder, silent. Gojyo can see Hakkai's hands out of the corner of his eye. They are twisted tightly around each other.

"Hey," Gojyo says. "Could use your luck right now. Stick or hit?"

He'd be crazy to hit with only two to twenty-one. But he'd like to be able to pay his bar tab tonight, and then there was that set of dipping bowls Hakkai keeps looking at when they pass the store. He never says anything, but then he wouldn't.

Hakkai leans over his shoulder and peers at the cards, adjusting his monocle. Gojyo catches sight of the writing on the tag. It's their address, and the tag is shiny-new. Gojyo hadn't known there was an engraver in town who worked that fast.

"Ah, another card, I think," Hakkai says, and faces around the table fall. Faces that don't belong to Gojyo, anyway. They are as familiar with Hakkai's luck as he is.

The card is, of course, a two. He sweeps the pot over and stuffs it in his pockets, trying not to beam too obviously.

Outside, Gojyo reaches over and gives the tag a tug. Hakkai looks at him and doesn't pull away.

"Did you wash it first?" Gojyo asks.

"Of course."

"Tag's nice. Get that done today?"

"Yes." Hakkai's face is blandly curious. They could be discussing what to have for dinner.

"So...chicken tonight?" Gojyo asks. "Or we could pick something up if you don't want to cook."

Hakkai relaxes from the bland curiosity, and he smiles. "Chicken, yes. And perhaps some meat buns for tomorrow. I believe Sanzo and Goku are visiting."

Gojyo wonders what Sanzo will make of the collar.

***

"Forget it, stupid monkey. You're never gonna win." Gojyo fences Goku's chopsticks away from the last meat bun effortlessly.

"That's mine!" Goku says. "You had yours already!"

Hakkai is cleaning up in the kitchen. Sanzo is drinking coffee, reading the paper, watching Hakkai without seeming to. His pretense of total indifference is, as always, flawless. Too bad it doesn't even fool Goku anymore.

He thinks _something_ about the collar, but damned if Gojyo can tell what.

Gojyo lets Goku steal the last meatbun and ignores his gloating, getting up to help Hakkai.

Hakkai washes; he dries. That's the way it goes.

Sanzo slides his glasses down his nose and looks at them. "How domestic."

This is the ten zillionth time Sanzo's been over to fill up on Hakkai's cooking and not once has he said anything like that. And it's been true all along. He's just trying to get a rise out of Hakkai, and he thinks this'll do it. It's all over his face.

"If you get up off your lazy ass, you could put these away," Gojyo says, because it's pretty clear Hakkai isn't going to say anything at all. "Or is his holiness not up to doing actual work?"

Sanzo straightens his newspaper and adjusts his glasses. "I don't think so," he says dryly. "I wouldn't want to interrupt your routine."

Hakkai's hand slips on a glass, and Gojyo only barely catches it in time. They're going to have a talk after Sanzo and Goku leave.

***

They've been back three months, and Gojyo's still on the futon on the floor. He keeps saying they should get another bed, and Hakkai keeps coming up with reasons to put it off for another week. Gojyo hasn't pushed it. He hasn't pushed a lot of things.

With the lights out, the room is as black as any night on the road, stars hidden by trees overhead or moon behind clouds.

For the first few days, they both slept well past noon, years of exhaustion keeping them immobile until two or three in the afternoon. Gojyo put tinfoil over the windows because he was sick of the sun stabbing him in the eyes every time he turned over. The moon doesn't have a chance.

The dark makes it easier to ask.

"Hakkai?"

"Yes, Gojyo?"

"What's going on?"

Silence for a heartbeat too long. "I'm sorry, Gojyo. I don't know what you mean."

Gojyo can hear the smile in his voice. There's times he wants to beat that smile away. Blood and broken teeth would be easier. He could fix that.

It's this he doesn't know how to fix; the part of Hakkai that will let him smile and lie and leave Gojyo out in the cold. This is why Gojyo doesn't like to push. It hurts too much when he can't break through.

"What did Sanzo say that freaked you out?"

"Sanzo was quite polite, I thought. And he only hit Goku with his fan twice."

Gojyo sighs. "When you dropped the glass. Why did what he said bother you?"

"My hand slipped." The words are shorter this time, the ends clipped off.

Gojyo smiles to himself in the dark. He's on the right track. What did Sanzo say again?

"I thought he was being pretty polite then, too. I guess we have got a pretty good routine going. Wouldn't have thought we'd go all domestic so easy, but it's working, right? So why fuck with it."

The silence has shifted in a way Gojyo can't quite gauge.

"Hakkai? You still awake?"

There is no answer.

***

Hakkai is gone when Gojyo wakes up the next morning. He is gone all day as Gojyo tears down the tinfoil and swipes a dirty dishtowel over Hakkai's spotless counters and makes tea over and over without drinking it. He is gone at sunset when Gojyo strips the sheets from the bed and makes it again and lies down on the covers, leaving dirty smudges with his boots.

At midnight, it starts to rain.

At three in the morning, the door bursts inward hard enough to crack against the wall. Hakkai steps in. His hair is plastered flat against his head by the rain. His clothes are torn and muddy. One limiter is missing, and Gojyo can see the length of his nails from across the room. His eyes are wild.

Gojyo sits up and stretches, carefully casual. "Hey," he says. "You want some tea?"

Hakkai's head jerk doesn't quite make it as a nod, but Gojyo gets up to make tea anyway. He hears Hakkai's shoes hit the floor, hears the door close and the ragged breaths, slowly calming.

When he turns around to set two cups on the table, Hakkai is sitting straight in a chair, hands resting on his thighs. His monocle is gone.

Gojyo sets a cup in front of him and returns to the kitchen for the tea pot. He pours.

Hakkai's hands creep around the cup, and he bends low, breathing in steam.

One sip. Two. He touches his ear.

"I... I lost it," he says.

His nail catches on his skin and makes a bloody scratch along the side of his face. He doesn't seem to notice.

"S'okay. We'll find it in the morning."

"I don't know where."

Hakkai sounds so lost, and there's no way Gojyo can not touch him, not wrap an arm around his shoulders and kneel next to his chair and let Hakkai collapse over him. He is trembling, clutching Gojyo's shirt with a desperation that feels like fear. It scares Gojyo, too. It fades slowly into silent exhaustion, and finally into sleep. He lies heavy and warm against Gojyo's side and never stirs as Gojyo carries him to bed.

***

Hakkai is up first in the morning. He makes the rice gruel he usually reserves for when one of the company is ill and sits at the table, bent over the bowl. He spoons it into his mouth in mechanical movements without waiting for it to cool.

Gojyo watches him from the futon.

Hakkai pauses with the fifth spoonful halfway to his mouth.

"I went back to dig up the body," he says softly. He sucks the gruel in and hisses quietly, reaching for a glass of water that isn't there.

Gojyo gets up and fills one at the tap. He sets it in front of Hakkai and goes back to lie on the futon and let Hakkai pretend he's still asleep.

Hakkai drinks half the glass of water in small sips before he speaks again.

"I kept dreaming, you see. It was her, and I'd buried her alive. It was me, and I was my ghost. Not real at all. And this--" He raises a hand and sweeps it in a half circle that encompasses their one room. "--all this was the dream."

Gojyo says nothing. So far out of his depth, there is nothing he can say. He gets up, moving as quietly as he can, and stands behind Hakkai's chair, hand on his shoulder.

"It is real," he says. "I'm real. I'm pretty sure, anyway."

He hears Hakkai's half-laugh and feels a shudder run through him.

"I know," Hakkai says. "I do know, of course."

Gojyo touches his ear. Can't quite help himself. "How'd you lose it?"

Hakkai hand closes around his wrist with crushing force, letting up only when Gojyo breathes in sharply at the feel of his bones being ground together. Hakkai's nails are still long, he notes, but clean now. His clothes are fresh, and his hair is still damp from the shower.

"I lost them all." There is a slight slur to Hakkai's words. "I lost everything. But I found these two again."

"C'mon," Gojyo says. "We'll go find the other one."

***

They walk side by side because Gojyo won't let Hakkai get further than an arm's length away. If he can't touch him, he's half-afraid he'll disappear. Like a dream.

When they reach the dog's grave, the earth is freshly turned, heavy and wet. It's clear that Hakkai was here yesterday at some point, unless someone else in town wants week-old dog meat for something.

They find the limiter at the base of a nearby tree and Hakkai slips it back on his ear with a sigh. His claws shrink, and the shadow of a vine disappears from his face, so faint it is only now noticeable by its absence.

He sinks down to sit on a rock, and Gojyo sits beside him.

"I've always wanted things I can't have," Hakkai says softly.

Gojyo shifts, rubs his hands down his thighs. Wishes, to his horror, that Sanzo was here. Sanzo's good at shit like this.

"You had her for a while," Gojyo says. "Isn't that better than nothing?"

Hakkai touches the collar around his neck and doesn't answer.

The sun is overhead, noonlight baking the tops of their heads, when Gojyo finally breaks the silence again.

"It's lunchtime," he says. "You gonna cook those shrimp in the fridge?"

"How long is this going to go on?" Hakkai asks.

"Huh?"

Hakkai's head jerks up, and he meets Gojyo's eyes. " _This_."

Gojyo opens his mouth and shuts it again. He wants to ask what Hakkai's talking about, but he has a feeling he should know. He doesn't. There's something nagging at the back of his mind, but the pieces won't fit together.

Hakkai's face softens and smoothes over slowly, smile creeping inevitably back. "I'm sorry," he says. "Shrimp for lunch. Yes, of course. They'll go bad otherwise."

***

Hakkai does something with the shrimp and scallions and ginger, and Gojyo eats everything that is put on his plate. It's very good, but he still feels pretty much as if he'd like to vomit when he's done.

The silence between them is all wrong. It wasn't like this on the road or even before, and he doesn't know what's different now. He wishes Hakkai would just spit it out, but that's not going to happen.

After lunch, Hakkai kisses him. Hard. On the mouth. Then he clears the table and starts washing the dishes.

Gojyo fumbles for a cigarette with nerveless fingers and lights up before catching Hakkai's reproving look. That's right. He said he wouldn't smoke inside.

He steps out on the porch and sits down too hard on the railing. It groans and splinters at the edge, nails sliding through rotting wood. He waits to see if it will crack, but it holds for now.

He smokes. And smokes. Flicks the spent butt into the mud and lights up again. And it's not like he's never thought about this, but.

Another cigarette burns down to the filter.

A year into the journey, he gave up wondering. If it was going to happen, it would've happened already. It would've happened before, all those nights alone together in this little house, many of them spent in the same bed.

He stubs out his cigarette on the railing and goes inside. Hakkai is standing in front of the sink, hands submerged in soapy water. All the dishes are clean, stacked, waiting to be dried.

Routine, Sanzo said.

Gojyo ignores the dishes and puts his hands tentatively on Hakkai's waist. He doesn't know how to do this, or even if he wants to, or even if Hakkai really wants it. He kisses the back of Hakkai's neck because it's there and because he doesn't have to look at him while he does it. His skin tastes more of soap than sweat, despite their hours in the sun.

Hakkai pulls his hands out of the water, pulling the plug out as he does. He dries his hands on the dish towel and hands it to Gojyo.

Gojyo figures that's enough for now. He takes the towel and dries the dishes.

***

The next morning, Gojyo is up first. He leaves Hakkai asleep and walks into town.

Sanzo is standing by the apple stand. Gojyo is both surprised and not at all surprised to see him.

"Well?" Gojyo says.

"Well, what?"

"Well, what are you doing here? As if I didn't know."

"I have a monkey to feed. What's your excuse?"

The monkey is standing a few feet away, eating meat buns as fast as the shop owner can make them.

Gojyo slumps a little. He can't just ask. It galls enough that Sanzo knows what's up with Hakkai. He can't bear to ask him to explain it.

"You're such a moron," Sanzo says. And, to the man selling apples, "Four. He'll pay." He jerks a thumb at Gojyo.

Sanzo waits while Gojyo pays and then takes the bag of apples. He throws one to Goku, who catches it without looking. He takes another for himself and shoves the bag at Gojyo's chest.

They walk between the rows of shops, kicking up dust, Sanzo polishing his apple on a corner of his robe. Instead of eating it like a normal person, he makes it disappear into one of his sleeves and pulls out a cigarette.

Grudgingly, Gojyo lights it.

Sanzo takes a drag and holds it for a second, letting the smoke out with his words. "You two aren't my problem anymore. It's bad enough I still have him." He tips his head towards the monkey, still eating what's probably his weight in meat buns.

"Don't look at me. I never asked you for a goddamn thing."

"Thirteen cigarettes."

"What?"

"Thirteen--"

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Figures he'd fucking keep count. Gojyo digs out the pack from his pocket. "In how many years? And you still--"

Sanzo knocks his hand away. "Not my brand."

Gojyo really, really wants to hit him. He takes a deep breath and shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn't.

"He'd do anything you asked," he says, instead. "You do know that, right?"

Sanzo is quiet. Score.

"Like, if you asked him to go jump off a fucking _cliff_ \--"

"Shut up," Sanzo says.

He shuts up. Sanzo raises an eyebrow at him because that's usually the one thing he doesn't do when Sanzo tells him to shut up. He shrugs, and Sanzo lowers the eyebrow.

"Where'd the collar come from?" Sanzo asks, after a few seconds of silence.

"Dead dog. We found it where..."

Sanzo nods and saves him having to finish.

"The tag's new," Gojyo adds.

"I noticed. Stupid thing to do. Unlike some people, he's not dumb enough to forget where he lives." He takes a drag and spits out the smoke in a thin stream. "Most of the time anyway. Sometimes he's as bad as the rest of you."

"He knows where his home is," Gojyo says, and wonders why he sounds so defensive.

Sanzo just looks smug. Gojyo wants to hit him. Again.

***

Hakuryuu scolds him from the roof when he gets back to the house. It doesn't occur to him until right then that maybe he should've left a note.

Hakkai is sitting at the table, cup of tea in front of him. He doesn't look up when Gojyo enters. He doesn't look up when Gojyo walks over to stand beside him.

Gojyo sets the bag with the apples down in front of him.

"I saw Sanzo at the market," he says. What he wants to say is, _I wasn't running out on you. This is your home. Don't leave._ But he can't just say stuff like that. Not even to Hakkai.

"Oh? Is he well?"

"Looked well. Goku too, at least until Sanzo finds out how much he owes for all those meat buns."

Hakkai laughs a little, but it is a very little.

"I could make breakfast," Gojyo offers, though he's not sure he can. Maybe they have cold cereal. He can manage not to spill the milk. "If you want."

"That's quite all right," Hakkai says. "I'll do it. And then I think it would be best if--"

Gojyo takes Hakkai's chin in his hand, too hard, and kisses him, too softly. His own mouth is dry, and so are his lips, and when he licks them, he licks Hakkai's mouth.

"Oh." Hakkai's eyes are closed. "You don't have to--"

"I never do anything I don't want to. You oughta know that by now."

"I do," Hakkai murmurs. It sounds like a vow.

Gojyo straightens up and wipes his mouth. He sees Hakkai catch the gesture, see his face close up again, smile back in place as if it was never gone.

He can't explain. He doesn't want Hakkai. Not like he wants the girls he beds. There's no rush of heat, no must-have-now, pants-too-tight imperative. But Hakkai is Hakkai, and Gojyo doesn't mind the kisses. Doesn't mind the soft yielding of his mouth. Wouldn't mind, he thinks, being touched by him. No, not at all.

He kisses Hakkai again and doesn't wipe the kiss away. It was only a reflex. It doesn't mean anything. Not that Hakkai will ever believe that now.

"Cereal?" he asks. "Or, uh. I could make eggs. Maybe."

Hakkai rises smoothly, brushing non-existent wrinkles from his pants.

"I think the one kitchen fire was enough, don't you, Gojyo?"

***

That night, Gojyo decides there's really no reason for him to keep sleeping on the floor. He crawls off the futon and across bare wood until his hand finds the bed. It's still dark, even without the tinfoil. New moon tonight, splinter-thin and pale.

He tugs the covers aside and crawls in.

Silence.

"...Gojyo?"

"Hm?"

"You're in my bed."

"It's my bed. I bought it. With other people's money that I cheated them out of fair and square."

"Do you want me to sleep on the futon?"

"Did I ask you to sleep on the futon?"

"No."

"There's your answer."

More silence.

He can feel the tension from Hakkai's body so close to him. He can feel heat, too, warming him steadily. Hakkai turns on his side, facing the wall, and Gojyo spoons up behind him, arm over his waist. He's never liked sleeping alone anyway.

***

He wakes with his arms full of Hakkai, legs tangled with his, dark head tucked under his chin. That's fine.

Hakkai's morning wood pressed against his thigh is also, surprisingly, fine. He's not sure he wants to do anything about it, but it's okay that it's there. He slides his leg against it, feeling it clearly through Hakkai's thin pajama pants. Hakkai stirs, leg sliding over his hip.

Gojyo freezes. "Uh...Hakkai?"

"You didn't have to sleep in my bed."

"How long have you been awake?"

"Long enough." Hakkai's hips move, dragging his cock across Gojyo's thigh, torturously slow.

"S-stop," Gojyo says. But he finds he doesn't mean it. Which is good, because Hakkai doesn't stop.

"You're welcome to leave."

"It's my bed."

Hakkai kisses him slowly, softly, lips lingering against his, tongue teasing at his mouth.

"We've been through this," Hakkai says quietly. "You didn't want me to sleep on the futon."

"I didn't. I don't."

Hakkai takes his wrist and pulls it down.

Gojyo twists against his grip, but Hakkai's stronger than he is, always has been. His hand is dragged inexorably down to press against Hakkai's crotch. He swallows.

Hakkai rubs against his hand, watching his face. "You haven't hit me yet."

"Not going to."

"You're not sure about this."

Gojyo hesitates. "Do I have to be?"

Hakkai lets out a long breath and rests his head on Gojyo's chest. "It feels so good when you touch me."

He's heard a hundred girls say that, but it's nothing like hearing Hakkai say it. His hand tightens almost involuntarily. He hears Hakkai's whisper of a moan, and his hand is moving of its own accord, rubbing soft fabric over what he suspects is even softer skin. Skin he wants to touch.

"I... Can I..." He hesitates, because he doesn't know how they got here. He doesn't know what Hakkai wants from him. It seems obvious, but everything about Hakkai seems obvious, until you've known him a day or two.

"Yes," Hakkai breathes. "Yes, please."

Gojyo starts at Hakkai's hip, bared by loose elastic. His hand slides down warm smooth skin, over Hakkai's thigh, up across his stomach. A brush of fingertips tells him how hard Hakkai is, how the skin of his cock is stretched tight, how his pants are catching at the tip now where moisture sticks the cloth to his body.

It's nothing like a conscious decision that makes him draw Hakkai nearer, that makes his hand close in a tight fist over Hakkai's cock. He hears soft breaths, his name on Hakkai's lips, the rasp of skin on skin as he jerks Hakkai off, the quiet jingle of the tag against the dull metal studs of Hakkai's collar.

***

Hakkai washes dishes. Gojyo dries them. They don't speak; they don't touch. This is how it's been all day.

Gojyo suspects Hakkai is being polite, giving him time to think. Gojyo isn't thinking. He's panicking. He runs the damp towel around the circumference of another plate and watches his thoughts run in maddening circles around his brain.

He wants to go back to the bar. He wants to pretend this morning didn't happen. He especially wants to pretend he didn't get hard while it didn't happen. Most of all, he wants to turn back the clock so these are breakfast dishes, not dinner dishes, and he'll have more than an hour or two to decide where he wants to sleep tonight.

"Well," Hakkai says, with his pleasant smile. "I think I'll turn in early tonight."

Very early. It's only eight o'clock. Hakkai heads off to the bathroom, and Gojyo puts the dishes away. They have certain shelves they go on, cups and glasses and plates, here and here and here.

Everything in this house has a place it belongs. Keys in the basket by the door. Boots under the bench. Books in the bookcase Gojyo built himself. Even Gojyo's ashtray has been allowed its place on top of the dresser, even though he doesn't smoke inside anymore.

Hakkai walks out of the bathroom and goes directly to the bed. His chest is bare. The muscles in his back and shoulders shift under his skin as he climbs into bed and turns to face the wall.

Gojyo looks from the bed to the futon and back again. The only homeless thing in this house is him.

He sits at the table, drinking beer, unlit cigarette dangling from his lips. Eventually, he falls asleep.

***

"What do you want?" he asks Hakkai.

"Eels," Hakkai tells the fishmonger and Gojyo both. "If that's all right. Are they fresh?"

Gojyo has to wait while the fishmonger explains how his own son pulled those very eels from the river this morning or dug them up from his garden or wherever the fuck eels come from. It's not really all right with Gojyo. Eels always look to him like something Sanzo should use his sutra on. But Hakkai's the one doing the cooking.

On their way back from the market, he asks again. "What do you want?"

"I don't know what you mean, Gojyo."

Gojyo takes the bag of eels and ice from Hakkai's hand. "Do you want me?" he asks. He can feel a touch of heat in his cheeks. He's not sure he's ever had to ask that before.

Hakkai looks at him for a long time. "I want you to be happy," he says, at last.

Gojyo restrains himself from saying something flippant about avoiding eels in the future and kisses him instead. Their noses bump, and he knows he's holding Hakkai's shoulder too tightly.

"Shouldn't this be easier?" he asks. He realizes a second too late that it was the wrong thing to say.

Hakkai's eyes are unreadable as he takes the bag back and starts walking.

***

At the bar that night, things are very easy indeed. It's easy to get drunk, easy to laugh with people who mean nothing to him. It's even easier to take their money.

Everything goes well until Hajime smirks at him and asks, "Hey, where's your wife?"

Gojyo hits him in the face. He doesn't mean to, didn't plan to, and for a second he doesn't really understand how this man, his friend, or at least someone he's taken money from on a regular basis for months now, ended up bleeding on the floor.

There's blood on his knuckles, too.

He walks quickly out of the bar, leaving his money and his cards on the table. On the way home, he runs.

His chest is burning by the time he reaches their house. The door bangs against the wall, and Hakkai sits up in bed, staring at him with sleep-clouded eyes.

"Gojyo? Are you well?"

"No! No, I'm not fucking well." He's over by Hakkai's side, sitting next to him on the bed. His fingers fumble with the buckle of the collar, but he's drunk, and it's hard to make dramatic gestures when you're drunk. It takes him maybe a whole minute of Hakkai's patient silence before he can get the damn thing off and fling it across the room.

He doesn't know whether it's desire or stubbornness that makes him start pulling at Hakkai's pajama bottoms. Those come off more easily, maybe because Hakkai is helping him now, even as his eyes say that he knows Gojyo is drunk and he is reserving judgement until morning.

In a sudden burst of coordination, Gojyo reaches for Hakkai's limiters and has them off before Hakkai can do more than flinch.

Dark green eyes register panic for a second before they close, and Hakkai's voice is shaking. "Oh, Gojyo. Why?" he says, and he's reaching to get them back even as he changes.

The limiters fall from Gojyo's hand and scatter on the floor.

Blunt-cut nails sharpen to claws. Vines grow across Hakkai's pale skin like living things, twisting into place and sinking into his body until it seems they must have always been there. Hakkai's eyes open and focus on Gojyo, sharp and intent.

Gojyo swallows.

"Bad move." Hakkai's voice is darker, smoother, more naked than Gojyo has ever heard it.

"I don't think so."

"No?" In what seems like a single movement, Hakkai has him pressed against the bed, face down, wrists pinned to the mattress with one clawed hand.

Gojyo hears fabric ripping, feels cool air and the scratch of something considerably sharper than any woman's fingernails down his newly bared back. He shivers, unable to stop himself.

"No," he insists. But this part of Hakkai has always scared him a little. "Will you tell me what you want now? Will you stop fucking around and--"

Hakkai licks up his back and bites, less than gently, at the back of his neck.

"Stop fucking around and fuck you?"

"Yes," Gojyo says. "Yes. _Fuck_ yes, do it." It's out before he can stop it, before he even knew it was coming. He buries his face in the pillow, heat rising to his cheeks.

Hakkai laughs and lowers his body down onto Gojyo's, pressing against him from chest to thigh. His cock is hard and imposing, sliding roughly against Gojyo's ass.

Hakkai's hand slips under Gojyo's body and cups his crotch. He can feel the threat of claws prickling against his cock.

"I should," Hakkai breathes. "I want to."

Either he has a knife somehow, or his claws are just that sharp; Gojyo's pants shred, and Hakkai pulls the tatters away.

Gojyo is naked, except for the remnants of his shirt. Naked with Hakkai on top of him. Hakkai's body is hot, almost fevered, vibrating with contained power. He's hard and rubbing himself against Gojyo's ass.

This is the thing he wasn't sure he could do, even for Hakkai. It doesn't seem so bad now. Good thing too, because he's pretty sure it's going to happen whether he wants it to or not.

Well, no. Because Hakkai wouldn't, even like this, would he? Gojyo looks over his shoulder and sees possession in Hakkai's eyes. Possession and lust and raw, unflinching desire. Maybe he would.

Gojyo's heartbeat picks up, and a breath of panic makes his muscles tense. Even if he's not going to say no, he needs at least the opportunity.

It takes all his strength and all Hakkai's distraction, but Gojyo gets a hand free with a sudden yank and twists halfway around, enough to pull Hakkai's head down and press their mouths together.

Gojyo can't tell if the stiffness in Hakkai's body is surprise or anger. The mouth under his stays closed. Gojyo teases the hard line of Hakkai's lips with his tongue and cups the side of his face.

"Please," Gojyo says, and has no idea at all what he's asking for. He feels dizzy, and it's not just from the booze.

Then Hakkai is kissing him so hard that words are impossible. He is pressed down onto his back, and Hakkai is over him, around him, growling against his lips, cock rubbing at his stomach. Tongue in his mouth, clawed fingers laced with his.

"Gojyo," Hakkai whispers. His voice is fraying at the edges. "Gojyo, oh Gojyo, oh..." Over and over, until he goes still and wet heat spreads across Gojyo's stomach.

Hakkai's claws are digging into the backs of Gojyo's hands. He can feel blood pooling and starting to run down towards his wrists. His own cock is aching.

Hakkai is quiet now. He lies peacefully against Gojyo's chest, asleep or unconscious or just unwilling to move. His breath is soft and warm on Gojyo's skin.

***

Gojyo wakes up to the sound and smell of bacon sizzling. He sits up. Hakkai is standing at the stove with his back to the room.

"Morning," Gojyo ventures.

Hakkai smiles over his shoulder. "Good morning, Gojyo. Breakfast is almost ready."

Gojyo stands and pulls on a pair of pants which sits, neatly folded, at the end of the bed. There is no sign of his shredded clothes or of the sticky mess he expected to find on his stomach. Hakkai has done a remarkable clean-up job. There are even bandages, he realizes, wound around his hands, each with five pinpricks of red showing through the gauze.

He walks over to stand behind Hakkai and kisses his neck, his shoulder where his shirt has slipped aside to bare it, his temple. He turns off the burner and ignores his stomach, which wants to know if he's sure this can't wait until after he's had some bacon.

He turns Hakkai to face him.

"I'll leave," Hakkai says. "That would be best."

"Okay."

Hakkai looks up at him, obviously surprised.

"Where are we going?" Gojyo asks.

"I meant--"

"I don't think you did. I think you just wanted me to ask you to stay. I don't want to go anywhere. Road food sucks, and the beds are lumpy. I want to stay here. So stay." He smiles a little. "Because if you go, I'll have to go with you."

"But--"

"You don't want to go, right?"

Hakkai lets out a breath and shakes his head a very little bit. "No. I don't want to go. But Gojyo, last night--"

"Last night was good. And my idea, remember?" He touches Hakkai's ear, finger bumping over body-warm metal. "You told me not to. Or tried to, anyway."

"I could have--"

"No. You couldn't have. You wouldn't hurt me."

Hakkai crosses his arms over his chest. "Could you, perhaps, let me finish a sentence?"

Gojyo smirks. "Perhaps. Give it a try."

"I do want to stay," Hakkai says quietly. "But what worked on our journey might not work here. There are fewer distractions, and..." He looks down at his hand where it grips his own upper arm too tightly.

"You're worried about the girls?"

"They have always seemed important to you."

He looks around the room at all their things, placed just where they should be. He glances at the bed. Everything where it belongs, everything except him.

"You're more important." Gojyo hears his own voice, too harsh, and wonders why it was so hard to say. He's always known it was true.

"I don't want you to give anything up for me."

"No, except you do. Don't tell me you're going to be happy with me sleeping around on you, once we--"

Hakkai's mouth tightens. "Once we?"

"You know."

"I don't know. We've already had sex, Gojyo. What do you think is going to change if we do it again?"

Gojyo shrugs and takes a step forward, maneuvering Hakkai up against the counter. "Dunno. Maybe I'll get to come this time. You think?"

"Gojyo..."

"No, I'm serious." He smiles, thigh sliding between Hakkai's legs, finding him already half-hard. "It'd be a nice change."

Hakkai's stern expression is wavering. "You can't solve everything with sex," he says.

"Pfft. That's what you said about beer."

" _Gojyo_ , you _can't_ solve everything with--"

"Shut up."

To what Gojyo suspects is their mutual shock, Hakkai shuts up. His mouth is still open, perhaps a quarter of an inch of space between his parted lips.

Gojyo curls his fingers around the side of Hakkai's neck, thumb laid along the line of his jaw, and leans in until their mouths meet. He brushes his tongue between Hakkai's lips, tasting him, catches his bottom lip gently with his teeth, and draws back an inch or two.

For a second, Hakkai only stares, lips wet and parted. Then he takes Gojyo's face between his hands, thumbs curving over Gojyo's cheeks, fingers digging in just a little behind his ears.

"I want you so much," Hakkai says. It sounds like he's talking more to himself than to Gojyo. "It seems I only ever want things I can't have."

_Oh. Not her,_ Gojyo thinks. _Me. He was talking about me._

Gojyo has thought, more than once, that he and Gonou died on the same night; both of them lying in the rain and mud, bleeding their life out at the same time. Because, honestly, Gojyo doesn't remember who he was before that. Not really. He remembers the gambling, and the beer, and the girls, but he doesn't remember what he thought about beyond his next smoke, drink, lay. He doesn't remember thinking about anyone else.

Sometimes his mother, sometimes Jien, but not really about them. He thought _She hated me. He left me._ That wasn't about them. That was about him.

And then there was Gonou, and Hakkai, and suddenly every part of Gojyo's head that had been so empty before was filled up. He doesn't remember what it was like to be that empty. He doesn't want to remember.

But he doesn't know how to say any of that, so all he can do is kiss Hakkai like he means it. It's a sort of sinking feeling as their lips open, but like sinking into bed at the end of a hard day, sinking into the arms of someone he knows will keep him from falling--and Hakkai is holding him up now. His knees are weak, and he thought that didn't happen in real life.

"Bed," Gojyo says, but it comes out as an unintelligible syllable, half-moaned into Hakkai's mouth.

Still, the next time Gojyo opens his eyes, he's sprawled back across the sheets, shirt rucked up under his arms. Hakkai, kneeling over him, looks almost as if he's in pain. He's so beautiful that it makes Gojyo's chest hurt.

"It's okay," Gojyo tells him.

Hakkai shakes his head.

"No," Gojyo says. "It is. It's okay. You can have this. Me."

Hakkai leans over him, straddling his body on hands and knees. He combs Gojyo's hair back from his face. The look on his face is nearly as alien as it was last night.

One finger runs down Gojyo's cheek, and he can feel the claw that's not there.

"Can I? Now is not a good time to be unsure, Gojyo."

"You can." He swallows. "Dumbass. You already do."

Hakkai settles back on his heels, one hand flat on Gojyo's chest, the other tracing the lines of his face: eyebrows, temples, nose, cheekbones, jaw. He stops with his fingers resting on Gojyo's lips.

"What do you want from me, Gojyo?"

Gojyo says nothing and sucks three of Hakkai's fingers into his mouth. He watches Hakkai's eyes glaze over, watches all the questions leave them. He bites down gently, holding Hakkai's fingers with his teeth, tongue sliding over his fingertips, feeling their slight movement in his mouth. He raises his head to take them in further, and it strikes him that he could do this for a long time. Just this, as long as Hakkai keeps looking at him like that.

"Gojyo..."

Hakkai tries to pull his hand back, and Gojyo bites down harder. He can feel the skin give, doesn't let up, makes it a threat.

He meets Hakkai's eyes.

Hakkai stops trying to pull away, and his body curves forward. His hand over Gojyo's heart eases until his nails are no longer digging into skin. By degrees, his knees slide out from under him until he lies full length against Gojyo's body.

His hair is falling across his eyes. It feels warm and barely there, like feathers against Gojyo's cheek when Hakkai leans down to kiss him. Their mouths meet awkwardly around Hakkai's fingers. The kiss is sloppy and painfully gentle, Hakkai licking at Gojyo's mouth, not even trying to pull his hand away anymore.

Gojyo takes his wrist and tugs gently, lacing their fingers together and sucking at Hakkai's lower lip instead. Hakkai's fingers dig into the bandages on his hand. It hurts, but he doesn't mind. Likes it, even.

He slides his free hand under Hakkai's shirt and spreads it out over his back, fingers moving a little against his skin. The need to be naked with him is a sudden, unexpected ache, a physical demand as strong as hunger or lust.

"Clothes," he whispers in Hakkai's ear. It's hard to make his voice work, impossible to make it sound anything close to normal. He feels like he's breaking.

Hakkai only manages to get their shirts off before he lies down again. Their chests are pressed together, and Hakkai's hands clutch at his shoulders.

Smooth skin and muscles ripple under Gojyo's hand as he slides it between their bodies and down, fumbling with the button of Hakkai's pants. Hakkai's mouth is hot on his neck, distracting him, and by the time he pushes button through button hole and yanks the zipper down, he knows there's going to be a mark there later.

He slips his hand inside Hakkai's pants, inside his underwear, around Hakkai's cock, hot and smooth and wet at the tip.

"You're gonna fuck me now," he tells Hakkai and hears him breathe in sharply, feels his cock grow still harder in his hand.

Gojyo lets him go and slides out from under him, nearly ripping fabric in a race to get the rest of his clothes off. His pants hit the floor and a wash of cool air over his bared cock and ass makes him shiver.

"The drawer," Hakkai says, pointing. He is staring as if Gojyo is some holy relic he never hoped to find.

The drawer contains a tube of KY. Of course, Gojyo thinks. They'll need that. Good thinking on Hakkai's part. Still, it's just so _hey, gay sex!_ that it makes him pause.

"When'd you get this?" he asks.

"Two months ago."

It's been opened, Gojyo notes. And used. "Who--?"

"Ah. Only me," Hakkai says, his cheeks a little pink.

Oh. Hakkai slicking his fingers, pushing inside his own body, back arching-- _Oh._

Gojyo hands him the tube and rolls onto his stomach. It feels like baring his throat, like kneeling at Hakkai's feet. Like surrender, except he never thought giving up would feel so good.

The long stroke of Hakkai's hand down his back makes him tense and then relax, nearly limp against the bed. The hand curves possessively over his ass and rests there.

"Spread your legs, please," Hakkai says. His words are calm, but his voice is shaking very slightly.

Gojyo obeys, bending one knee and drawing his leg up to the side. Exposing himself so deliberately is making him feel almost queasy, but his cock is still hard as stone between his stomach and the cool sheets.

Hakkai's hand leaves for a minute, and when he touches Gojyo again, his fingers are wet and slick, sliding easily between Gojyo's cheeks. He touches Gojyo's hole lightly, hesitantly, and Gojyo has to bite the heel of his hand to keep quiet.

The muscle there clenches involuntarily. It feels odd, but not entirely bad. When Hakkai's fingertip presses in, Gojyo nearly whimpers.

"All right?" Hakkai asks, other hand smoothing along Gojyo's spine.

"Yeah. Keep going."

'All right' is a relative term. He's been all right covered with blood, half-conscious, with a few broken bones thrown in. He's been all right with a beer in his hand and a girl on either arm. He's honestly not sure which side of the scale this is closest to until Hakkai's finger slides in deep and _curves_ and he makes a sound he's never heard himself make before.

"Fuck," he pants. "Fuck, Hakkai, do that--"

Hakkai does it again, and again, and Gojyo arches his back and gets one knee under him to push back, to get more. Hakkai holds his finger still and lets Gojyo fuck himself on it, awkward and slow, and Gojyo thinks this might be the hottest thing that's ever happened to him.

"May I add another finger?" Hakkai asks, and Gojyo almost laughs.

"This is so not the time to be polite--"

The second finger slides into without warning and without stopping. He can feel the bumps of Hakkai's knuckles moving inside him, stretching him wider--though still not as wide as Hakkai's cock is going to be, he thinks. His stomach twists a little inside him, but he's still working himself on Hakkai's fingers like he can't get enough.

"Now," Hakkai breathes. "I can't wait."

Gojyo turns to look at him, taking in the high color in his cheeks, wet lips, spikes of sweat-damp hair sticking to his neck and forehead. His pants are undone, cock hard and ready in his hand.

Gojyo's never really had a chance to study Hakkai's cock before. Conclusion: it's _big_. Every sensible part of his brain says _no_ , even as he nods agreement.

He gets his other knee under him and rests his elbows on the bed, his head in his hands. He feels Hakkai shift behind him, and then the fingers are gone. The withdrawal leaves him feeling empty and open and as if parts of him are showing that shouldn't be.

His fingers knot in his hair, and he spreads his legs still wider. "Fuck me," he whispers, maybe too quietly for even Hakkai to hear.

More lube is smeared over his hole and over Hakkai's cock as well, because it's slick when it touches him. Big is the appropriate word, it turns out, as Hakkai pushes slowly into him.

He doesn't stop, and Gojyo doesn't ask him to. As much as it hurts, he wants it. Even so, he's biting his lip by the time the head slides into him. The skin of his back itches with the awareness of Hakkai's eyes on him. He feels hot, flushed all over, and when he opens his mouth to ask for more, nothing comes out.

Hakkai's hands flex on his hips, and Hakkai moans and pushes in the rest of the way fast, hard, and he rests his forehead against Gojyo's back. His breath comes in hot, harsh pants.

"I'm sorry," Hakkai says faintly. "I didn't mean to--do that."

They stay there for a minute, Gojyo breathing deep and feeling his body adjust, Hakkai stroking his back and sides, lifting his hair away and kissing the back of his neck in apology.

"It's okay," Gojyo says, finally. "I'm okay. Move."

It takes only three perfectly aimed thrusts to get him hard again. The pain is fading a little, and he almost misses it. Without it, he feels as if he could get lost in this. He can't think with Hakkai moving inside him, hitting that spot just right every time. It's too good, and he needs to come, can't, doesn't want to, not yet.

Hakkai's hand closes on his cock without warning, thumb sliding up the underside and rubbing slickly over the head. Hakkai's hips jerk forward and meet his ass with an audible smack, head of his cock twisting against that spot, and Gojyo has never been so surprised by an orgasm in his life.

It's hot and tight and blinding, leaves him shaking, sweaty--and Hakkai is still fucking him. He stares at the weave of the sheets, feels his pulse thudding in his throat and the little stabs of pleasure as Hakkai moves inside him, almost painful twitches from his spent cock in reaction.

"Hakkai," he says, reaching back.

Hakkai takes his hand, presses his cheek to Gojyo's back, his lips forming words Gojyo can't hear. When Hakkai comes inside him, he can feel it, the heat, the tightening of Hakkai's hand on his. Hakkai lays soft, open-mouthed kisses over his shoulders and sinks slowly down on top of him, pressing him flat against the bed.

_"Hakkai,_ " Gojyo says again. He can't manage anything else.

"Mm," Hakkai murmurs. He shifts slightly, face tucked into the curve of Gojyo's neck. "I was going to get up and make breakfast after we were done."

"Ha. Not so much now, huh?"

"Perhaps...in a few minutes."

"Admit it, I'm just too hot for you."

Hakkai's teeth close briefly over the back of his neck, and Gojyo has the sense to shut up. He closes his eyes and drifts. The smile on his face might become a permanent fixture, he thinks, until a minute later when Hakkai pulls out and leaves him wincing instead. Out should be easier than in. Not fair.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?" he asks, when Hakkai's weight lifts off him.

A blanket replaces it almost immediately.

"I'll be back in a moment," Hakkai says. "With a towel."

"Oh. Right."

He adds messy to his mental list of adjectives describing gay sex. Difficult, awkward, painful, actually kind of gross when he thinks about it. Messy. Also, against all logic, easily the best sex he's ever had.

Splashing sounds come from the bathroom, and Hakkai returns with a damp towel. Gojyo takes it from him before he can try to use it on any part of his anatomy.

"What happened to the bacon?" he asks, as Hakkai stretches out on the bed beside him.

"I haven't had sex in seven years," Hakkai says.

Gojyo blinks once and draws the blanket over them both. Under the circumstances, the bacon can wait.

"Take a nap," he suggests.

"I think I already am," comes the faint reply.

A few minutes later, his breathing is soft and even. One hand is curled loosely in the blanket, and he looks more relaxed than Gojyo has ever seen him.

Seven years. Shit. That explained a lot. And Gojyo thought _he'd_ channeled his sexual frustration into violence.

Too sore to doze and too lazy to get up, Gojyo watches him sleep.

***

Gojyo is sweeping the floor. Hakkai hasn't asked him to, but his more normal occupation of sitting on his ass is currently less than attractive. It doesn't hurt all that much, but he can't help shifting his weight, and sooner or later Hakkai will notice. Of course, Hakkai has already noticed him sweeping. He hasn't said anything. Yet.

After the sweeping, Gojyo hauls out hammer and nails and fixes the loose board in the bookcase that Hakkai's been complaining about for a month. He empties his ashtray of a few ancient butts. He wonders if it's worth it to clean the windows.

"Gojyo--"

"I'm fine."

"I could--"

"No."

Hakkai pauses. "If I promise not to offer again, could you sit down?"

Gojyo sets the ashtray back down with relief and sits on the couch. "This is me sitting. Hi."

"I was wondering, are you going into town tonight?"

"Uh. Well, I hadn't planned on it. I thought we could stay here and--" _Have more sex, maybe the other way around this time, or, hey, blowjobs are good too._ "You know."

"I do enjoy your company, of course, but..." He opens the cigar box they keep their money in and holds it up. There's some loose change in the bottom. Looks like about two bucks. "We'll need groceries tomorrow."

"Ah. Didn't know I'd let it get that low." He takes a minute to try and add up his winnings from the past week, but it's useless. He doesn't even bother counting it anymore, just sticks it in the box for Hakkai to sort into neat piles in the morning.

"I could come with you." Hakkai smiles. "We could make a night of it."

***

Several hours later, Gojyo remembers that smile. It should have made him more wary. In fact, the whole situation should have made him more wary. There was no way Hakkai spent everything he'd brought home on eels. Also, it's the first time in all the years he's known him that Hakkai has uttered anything like the words _We could make a night of it._

An early autumn chill frosts the air, and the moon is slight and tinged with blue overhead. Hakkai walks close to his side, which Gojyo found almost unbearably sweet when they started out. When the first lights of town come in sight and Hakkai takes his hand--rather firmly--Gojyo gets it.

He's not sure how he feels about it, but his feelings don't matter much anyway. This is Hakkai Making a Point. A tidal wave would be easier to resist.

If he didn't already know he'd lose, though, he might try. They're on the edge of town now, and the more observant late-night loiterers are already noticing. His ass still hurts, and he shouldn't have to do this, not tonight. This isn't _fair_.

He slows his steps, fighting not to dig his heels in like a reluctant toddler. "Hakkai..."

Hakkai takes one more step and stops.

"Yes, Gojyo?" And the look on Hakkai's face says _Yes, Gojyo. This is exactly what I expected from you._

Their arms are stretched over the distance between them, the clasp of their hands faltering. Hakkai is half turned to look back at him. Leaf shadows from the trees above dance across his skin.

Maybe it is fair. Maybe it doesn't matter, if it's what Hakkai needs.

"Nothin'," Gojyo says. Two quick steps catch him up, and two more put him ahead. He grins and tugs Hakkai's hand. "C'mon. What are you waiting for?"

Hakkai blinks at him once and starts walking again, a foot or so away from him, their joined hands visible to anyone who cares to look. There are more than a few people who care to look at this time of night; men on their way to the bar, half-drunk already and openly staring, kids walking home to dinner, teenagers necking in the shadows, so wrapped up in each other that nothing but a real oddity would catch their attention. Apparently, Gojyo and Hakkai qualify.

Fun, fun. Still, Gojyo thinks, there will probably be more sex when they get home, and that will make up for a lot.

Their entrance into the bar makes him regret every night he's spent there since they got back from India. He should've stuck to his old rules--don't buy drinks for the guys, smile only at the girls, get the money and get out, no sticking around to socialize. But no, he thought it might be nice to have friends. Or at least a few guys he could say hey to on the street without getting the evil eye.

His 'friends' are looking at him with confusion punctuated by horror. The girls mostly just look sad, and whatshername, Jasmine? Gets a stricken look on her face and ducks into the ladies' room. Oops. He's pretty sure he's never even slept with her.

Well, fuck 'em all, anyway. He's got Hakkai. They don't. They lose.

A space magically clears at the bar as they approach. Hakkai sits in a magically-empty seat, and Gojyo orders them both a beer.

"Do you want to--" Hakkai starts.

Gojyo bends down and kisses him on the mouth. He clinks his beer mug against Hakkai's and smiles, heading off to the poker game in the corner. He's pretty sure they'll still be willing to try and take his money.

Hajime catches his arm and pulls him off a few steps before he reaches the table.

"Hey, man," he says. "Look, I'm sorry, you know? About last night. The wife crack. I mean--I didn't know-- I didn't _know_. It was just a joke, I swear."

It takes Gojyo a second to process the fact that this is actually an apology, that Hajime looks pretty upset, despite the state of his nose, which is swollen, purple, and slightly crooked.

"No sweat," Gojyo says slowly. "Sorry about, uh." He makes nose-punching gestures and then stops short when Hajime flinches. "I didn't really mean to."

Hajime grins and then flinches slightly again. The nose must really hurt. "I've had worse," he says.

Later, he ends up buying Gojyo and Hakkai both another beer. In fact, both of them drink for free all that night. Gojyo's suspects it's more out of a desire to stay on their good side--they are pretty dangerous guys, after all--than out of support for their suddenly-alternative lifestyle, but hey. Free beer. It's all good. He's having, against all expectation, a pretty decent time.

"Raise you ten," Gojyo says, just as he feels a hand land on his shoulder.

"I'm a bit tired," Hakkai says. "Perhaps we could leave now?"

He tips his cards so Hakkai can see them. He's got a royal flush, and that doesn't come along every day, even when he cheats.

"Couple more minutes?"

"Goodness," Hakkai says pleasantly. "You certainly don't need my help tonight. Not with those cards."

"Fold," Hajime says.

The rest of the table follows.

Gojyo sighs and collects his money. It would've been a lot more in a few minutes, but he should've known better. Hakkai smiles and puts a hand on his back, guiding him towards the door.

He has a bad moment then, with everyone's eyes on them again. There are too many knowing smiles, too much of an air of _We know what'll happen when he gets you home, heh heh_. Bad, but still not as bad as he might've expected.

"Didja have to--" he starts once they get outside.

Hakkai pushes him up against the wall and kisses him hard, one hand buried in his hair, the other on his ass.

" _Yes_ ," Hakkai says.

"Oh...okay." He pulls himself upright and remembers to breathe. "Just, it could've been a lot of money, that's all."

"I don't care about the money."

"Hey, you're the one who was claiming we were broke."

"I...may have exaggerated our financial distress."

"You don't say."

Hakkai starts walking, and Gojyo follows. The moon hovers near the horizon. It looks somehow brighter than it did on the way to town.

"I don't blame you," Gojyo says, after a while.

"You should."

"Yeah, well I _don't_ , so quit it."

He veers closer, shoulder bumping Hakkai's, pretending not to notice when Hakkai's hand curls into the fabric at the back of his shirt and holds there.

"I'm sorry," Hakkai says softly.

Gojyo slings an arm around his shoulders and hauls him close. "Quit that, too."

"But--"

" _Hakkai_. It's-- It's okay. I swear. Everything's okay."

Hakkai stops walking and looks at him. The night seems very quiet around them. Even the crickets have stopped singing.

"You really believe that?" Hakkai asks.

"Yes," Gojyo says, with as much surety as he can muster. It is okay. And if it's not, he'll _make_ it okay.

Hakkai doesn't say anything else, but his expression softens. He loosens his grip on Gojyo's shirt and slides an arm around his waist instead.

"I suppose you must be right, then," Hakkai says.

"Of course I'm right. You should listen to me more."

Hakkai is smiling now. "Yes, Gojyo. We should get home now. It's getting late."

"Right. I was just going to say that."

He really likes the way Hakkai says 'home.'


End file.
